The dog breathed in deeply and sighed, very much like he was relieved. Laura dropped a kiss onto his head and kept walking, feeling needed for the first time in ages.
THE STRAY
A
my was in the kitchen gathering the makings for a big country breakfast when Molly came downstairs. The smell of bacon was mouthwatering and Molly followed her nose through the living room, then stopped and did a double take at the pile of blankets on the couch. Grinning mischievously at Jo, she backpedaled and plopped down onto the couch, delighted at the grunt that issued from beneath her.
"Oh, man." Darby's voice was muffled. "I think a giant boulder just fell on me."
Molly slapped at her and got up. "Funny."
Darby peeked out from under the blankets, taking in Molly's attire of striped cotton pajama pants and a deep green, long-sleeve Adidas T-shirt. Her bare feet were tipped by toes polished a deep burgundy and the shirt brought out the green of her eyes. Darby swallowed hard at the sight, internally shaking her head at herself.
"I forgot extra socks," Molly said to Amy as she located a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. She tugged on Amy's auburn ponytail. "Can I borrow a pair?"
"Absolutely," Amy replied, cracking eggs into a large stainless steel bowl. "Jo-Jo, would you be a dear and get this lovely lady a pair of socks for her icy toes?"
"It would be my pleasure." Jo kissed the top of Molly's head as she passed by and disappeared into the master bedroom.
"How'd you sleep?" Amy asked. "Were you warm enough?"
"Oh, God yes. That quilt is wonderful. Where'd you find it?"
"My grandmother made that one. Isn't it beautiful?" Amy smiled
wistfully. "I had the two for the twin beds in the other room made to match so they'd all be the same. I love the homey, outdoorsy feel it gives to the place."
"I've got to say," Darby said, her voice scratchy as she shuffled in with a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "That couch I slept on? Homey and outdoorsy. Very, very nice."
Amy reached out and tousled Darby's sleep-mussed dark hair affectionately, then went back to her eggs.
"What the hell time is it, anyway?" Darby asked. "It was barely light out when Laura went for a walk. What's the matter with you people? After forty you don't have to sleep any more?"
"Hey," Molly scolded, playfully pushing at her. "Some of us have a ways to go before we hit that milestone. Besides, that's all your generation ever does. Sleep."
"You're a lazy bunch, that's for sure," Jo added, handing Molly a pair of white socks upon her return. "Sleep till noon. Live with Mom and Dad until you're thirty..."
"I have my own place, thank you very much." Darby felt slightly insulted at the assumptions.
"If you want to go back to sleep, you can take my bed," Molly offered.
Darby took several seconds to actually think about it before deciding it was better to decline. "Thank you, Molly, but I'm fine being up at the crack of dawn." She stuck her tongue out at her aunt. "I do it all the time."
Jo snorted but made no further comment as she handed her niece a cup of coffee.
"I love you all, but get the hell out of my kitchen," Amy said. "You're crowding me."
"The artist needs her space," Jo said, herding them a few feet away to the dining room table.
The open design of the house allowed for Amy to participate in conversations while keeping guests out of her immediate way. It was the only way Jo would have it; their home in the city was designed the same way. If Amy was going to spend so much time in the kitchen, Jo wanted to be able to see her and chat with her while she worked.
"Sophie still sleeping?" Jo directed her question to Molly.
"I think so. The door was closed when I got up." Turning to Darby,'
Molly asked, "Did you say Laura went out for a walk already?" When both Darby and Jo nodded, Molly raised her eyebrows in surprised admiration. "Wow. That's ambitious."
As if on cue, the front door opened and Laura stepped in, stomping the snow from her boots. Her cheeks had a healthy pink flush to them and her clear blue eyes were glittering. A small canine head peeked out from the top of the zipper of her ski jacket.
Molly squinted. "What the—?"
"I'm afraid I found a little something in the woods." Laura directed her gaze toward Jo. "I hope you don't mind, but the little guy was frozen stiff." She unzipped her jacket to reveal the rest of the dog.
He was brown, his fur wiry and in need of a cleaning. His legs were short and stubby and he had a sweet and gentle face. His ears were mismatched, one pointed straight up and one folded in half and flopping down, giving him a slightly comical appearance. Laura shed her jacket and stepped out of her boots, holding the dog to her chest the whole time. Moving toward the fireplace, she sat down on the wide brick hearth, letting the dog absorb the warmth as the other women approached cautiously.
"Well would you look at that," Jo said softly, holding a hand out to the animal. "Hi there, buddy boy." The dog sniffed the offered fingertips. "You found him?"
"Yeah, it was kind of weird. He was whimpering at the base of a tree about halfway along the path. I have no idea how he got there. When did it snow, do you know?"
"I got up around two to go to the bathroom and it was snowing pretty good then." Amy brought small containers with cream and sugar to the table and set them down, along with a handful of spoons.
Laura shook her head, not believing the poor dog could have stayed in that one spot for more than four hours, but having no other explanation. "Weird," she said under her breath.
Darby squatted down and put her face near the dog's. "Hey, furry butt. What were you doing out there all alone?" The dog swiped his pink tongue over her nose. Darby smiled up at Laura. "No collar, huh?"
"Nothing on him or around him."
"Looks like you might have yourself a new pal," Jo grinned.
"Would it be okay if I kept him here until I figure out the next course of action?"
"I don't see why not," Jo said. "We can't very well have him out in the woods all alone. Either somebody's looking for him or somebody dumped him."
"He's so sweet," Laura said, unable to believe somebody could just leave a helpless animal to fend for itself alone in the snowy woods. "Why would somebody do that?"
"People are assholes, that's why." Darby made the statement and there were nods all around.
"Amy? Do you think we can scramble him up some eggs or make him some rice or something? He's awfully skinny."
"Consider it done." After scratching the top of the dog's head, Amy left them to take care of the task.
Laura saw Sophie standing behind the others, her approach unnoticed, looking as if she hadn't slept more than two or three hours all night. She smiled at her temporary roommate. "Morning, Sophie."
Sophie inclined her head in a nod of greeting.
"Want to pet him?"
"Sure." Sophie squatted in front of the animal, who was a mess and in need of a bath. "You stink, pal," she said, but the affection in her voice betrayed the indifference she was trying for.
Laura smiled. "He does, doesn't he? I want to give him a bath, but I think I'd better make sure he's warmed up first. I'm afraid of shocking his system."
Sophie stood. "Is there coffee?" she asked nobody in particular, effectively ending any attempt at conversation. Jo pointed to the table and Sophie went to help herself. Laura frowned slightly as she met Jo's eyes. Jo gave her a don't-worry-about-it smile of reassurance.
Darby bent down to the dog's level once again. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have ended up in a house full of lesbians? You hit the mother lode, buddy. Nice work."
Forty-five minutes later, they were all seated at the dining room table enjoying a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. The dog was on the floor at Laura's feet after refusing to stay by the fire alone. He picked daintily from a paper plate of plain scrambled eggs Amy had fixed for him and glanced up every so often as if checking to make sure Laura hadn't disappeared into thin air. She reached down periodically to caress him.
"This is delicious, Amy," Sophie commented, working on her
second helping of eggs. "I don't know what you do to these damn things, but I've never had scrambled eggs this good."
"Secret ingredients," Darby said. "Aunt Jo doesn't even know what goes into them."
"True story," Jo agreed.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Amy said with a shrug, then held up a hand forestalling Laura as she opened her mouth to speak. "One chef is not allowed to tell another's secrets."
Laura smiled. "Fair enough. I'm shutting up."
"Thank you. And thank you, Sophie. I'm glad you like them."
"You know, I was going to try to guess what's in them," Sophie said with a grin. "But now that there's the whole possibility of murder, I think I'll just eat and enjoy."
"Smart move," Darby said.
"So," Jo began, setting down her fork. "I know this is vacation for most of us and I certainly don't intend to put you on a schedule, but I do want to let you know what some of your options are while you spend the week in our fine establishment." She smiled at Amy's grin. "There are two pairs of cross-country skis in the garage, along with snowshoes and toboggans. We have a satellite dish, so watching television is a possibility, even out here in the boondocks. There is also a DVD player and a PlayStation. We've got some board games in one of the closets upstairs and there are several decks of cards."
"There's also lots of wine and beer in the basement," Amy said. "Please help yourselves to all the food and drink you want. Mi casa es su casa."
"And, of course, there's always the sit-on-your-ass option, which many of us choose on vacation," Jo finished up.
There were nods and murmurs all around the table. Darby began wiggling her thumbs in midair. "I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm feeling a game of Resident Evil coming on. Anybody want to help me shoot some zombies?"
"I'll take you up on that," Sophie responded.
"Can I play after I go snowshoeing?" Molly asked. "One of you will have to teach me."
"You got it." Darby smiled at her.
"What time will Kristin be here?" Jo asked.
"She said she was going to head out sometime this morning,"
Molly said, leaving out the part about how she'd turned her cell phone completely off last night and left it upstairs on the nightstand next to the bed she'd occupied alone. Because ignoring the problem will make it go away, she thought with disdain, knowing she'd run upstairs and check the voicemail at some point during the day. Sometimes the worst part of being passive-aggressive is actually knowing that you are.
KRISTIN
"Hi, this is Molly and you 've reached my voicemail. Please leave me your name, number, and a brief message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. "
"God damn it."
Kristin Collins was exhausted. She pushed the end button and tossed the Blackberry into the passenger seat with great annoyance, yanking the earpiece from her ear and sending it in the same direction.
As it was, she had to drive with the stereo blasting and the back windows cracked enough to let an uncomfortable amount of cold air blast through the interior of the Lexus SUV. It was the only way to keep herself from drifting off at the wheel. She honestly didn't know how much longer she could keep up this pace before she'd simply keel over from fatigue, irritation, stress, or all three combined.
She wished she could drive faster, but the snow had been falling steadily all afternoon and apparently, this particular road wasn't high on the list of priorities for the snowplow drivers. She forced herself to drive smartly, even though she wanted to blink her eyes like in I Dream ofjeannie and be at the cabin. She should have been there about six hours ago, but damn Jack Reeves had happily heaped more work on her and she'd been stuck in the office. It never seemed to be the right opportunity to mention to Jack that she was actually supposed to be on her third day of vacation. She was sure he knew. She was also suddenly sure that he didn't care.
She let her mind drift fully to the subject of her boss. Jack Reeves had been her mentor, her one-time role model. He was a large and handsome African American man with graying temples and a deep,
booming voice that commanded attention. When she joined his team many years ago, she'd come in at the bottom rung, and on the ground floor. His company was small, but he was a smart man with a hell of a business sense and Kristin knew he was going nowhere but up. She'd listened to everything he said with rapt fascination, taken notes, asked questions, followed him around like a puppy. A puppy who wanted to learn.
It didn't take long for him to notice. He began tossing small responsibilities her way—making her part of the brainstorming team for one project, putting her in charge of gathering quotes for another, and finally letting her deal face-to-face with a client. That had been her crowning moment. The client loved Kristin because Kristin had actually listened. She had the uncanny ability not only to understand what her customers wanted, but more importantly, what they didn't. Reeves saw that right away and it wasn't long before clients were requesting Kristin. She became his most sought-after and successful account executive in a matter of months. She was a VP by the time she was thirty-five.
She'd never forget that promotion. Molly was so proud of her. They'd gone out to a very fancy dinner and had checked into a five-star hotel for the weekend, ordering room service and making love for two days straight. She could still see the glittering delight in Molly's green eyes, shining on her, making her feel like she was capable of anything just because Molly believed in her.
It had gone steadily downhill from there.
She glanced at her own eyes in the rearview mirror, noting the dark circles and the appearance of some fairly new crow's feet. She'd always gotten compliments on her looks and she'd learned to use them. During her career, her Ail-American, blond-haired, blue-eyed appearance, she had to admit, had gotten her through more than one door that was otherwise shut tightly. Now, she hardly recognized the tired, haggard-looking woman gazing back at her.
I'm aging way too fast, she thought, depressed. / look ten years older than I am.
Shaking her head, she mentally replayed her telephone conversation with Molly the day before, when she'd called to tell her she was going to arrive later than she'd thought.
"You promised," Molly had said, the low volume and tone
conveying two crystal-clear facts to Kristin: she was trying to keep her voice down so the others didn't hear her, and she was pissed. "You promised you'd be here today."
"I know, baby. I know. I'm really sorry. I can get there tomorrow morning."
Molly's silence might as well have been her shrieking in anger; it meant the same thing.
"Look, Mol, I know you're upset. I don't blame you. There just isn't a lot I can do about it, so I need to accept the fact that I've got to stay one more day and finish this stuff that Jack needs done. It's a huge project and it's going to bring in a bunch of money and five new accounts for us. And I'll get a bonus for my time. We'll go someplace fun with it, okay? Maybe take a long weekend in New York? See a show? What do you say?"
"I say, why don't you take Jack to a show?"
The line had gone dead after that and Molly had either turned the phone off altogether or just wasn't answering. Kristin had called ten times since then and had connected only with Molly's voicemail.
Now, not only had she not been able to get a hold of her partner, but she was also half a day later than she was supposed to be. If Molly was pissed already, things were only going to get worse.
"Like that's anything new," she muttered aloud. It seemed like Molly was mad at her more often than not these days. Suddenly annoyed at the harsh volume of the stereo, she hit the off button. Silence closed around her.
She pumped the brakes of the Lexus gently, coasting to a stop at a stop sign. Visibility was getting worse as the sunlight faded into dusk. God, she hated winter. Dark at four thirty, gray, sunless days. She should have been born in Arizona or New Mexico or Southern California. Someplace warm and sunny. She wanted to retire to the Southwest, but pulling Molly away from her family would be a Herculean feat, one she wasn't sure she had the energy for anymore. Pushing smoothly on the gas pedal, she urged the vehicle forward again, clicking on her high beams. They only made her attempts to see worse. She'd just have to take it slow and hope no deer decided to leap out in front of her car. That was the last thing she needed.
She peered at the directions she'd scrawled on the back of a takeout menu and tried to come up with a good opening line for when she saw
Molly. For about the seventeenth time in the last couple of hours, she reached across for the Blackberry and looked at the screen, hoping the little telephone icon that indicated voicemail was just late in showing up. She was stung that Molly hadn't even called her to make sure she hadn't driven into a ditch somewhere. Of course, if Molly had been checking her voicemail, she would have gotten Kristin's pathetically cheerful message letting her know that she'd lost track of time, but was heading out and would be there before Molly knew it.
Kristin rolled her eyes at herself. That was dumb. She shouldn't have been cheerful, she should have been angry. Pissed off that Jack had held her up yet again. Molly might have related to that a little better.
What the hell happened to us?
She pressed a hand to her forehead as she felt tears spring into her eyes. "God damn it," she said to the quiet inside the car. This had been happening more and more often lately. She wanted to blame it on PMS, on her emotions being too close to the surface because of her period, but it was happening at all times of the month. She'd get to thinking about Molly and her home and her life and the issues and frustrations would close in on her until she felt like she was going to have yet another panic attack.
And then she'd cry.
She missed Molly.
It was a vicious cycle that had begun about a year ago and had proceeded to rotate ever more quickly as time went on. She'd become stressed at work, she'd get home late—again—and try to be cheerful about how well work was going. Molly would get quiet, Kristin would feel guilty and throw herself further into her work, come home later and more cheerful, buy Molly something expensive. Molly would get quieter. Kristin could see the cycle very clearly, like it was painted as a giant mural in the sky for her, but she had no idea how to slow it down, let alone how to stop it.
"A little more support from my wife wouldn't be a bad thing," she said aloud, wishing somebody—anybody—was listening and at least attempting to understand. "Is that so much to ask? I'm working my ass off here. Why is it so hard for her to understand that I'm doing all of this for us? So we can have a better life? A worry-free retirement? Why can't she try, just once, to see things from my side? Why is that so difficult for her?"
The Blackberry buzzed from its place on the seat and Kristin jumped at the sound, snatching it up before it stopped vibrating, hoping it was a message from Molly. She frowned when she looked at the screen and saw there was an e-mail from the client she'd just sent a project outline to before she left.
"Jesus Christ, can't you people leave me alone for five seconds?" she muttered at the apparatus through clenched teeth. She punched a couple of buttons and read, her eyes ping-ponging from the electronic device to the windshield and back.
Hi, Kristin—
Just a couple of small inquiries regarding the proposed outline. Jacksaidyou 're away from the office, but you 'd have your Blackberry and would call ASAP. I'll wait to hear.
Thanks so much! Howard
"Great. Thanks a lot, Jack, you prick." Damn him. Sometimes she really thought he was useless. He dumped so much stuff in her lap, she might as well be running the joint. No, she was running the joint. Just without the fancy title and the larger paycheck. The entire firm would fall apart if it weren't for her holding it together.
She flung the Blackberry back to its nest on the passenger seat once again and heaved a huge sigh.
She was just so goddamn tired.
Twenty minutes later, she made the right-hand turn that took her down the slightly snow-covered driveway of Amy and Jo's place. The flakes were beginning to thicken, falling steadily, and Kristin was grateful she had arrived in one piece, happy to stop driving for the time being. Throwing her Blackberry and its attachments into her soft-sided leather briefcase, she hauled it and the Pullman suitcase Molly had packed for her out of the SUV and tromped up the driveway toward the cabin. She could smell the fire burning in the air, and the light spilling
out of the front windows gave off a warm, inviting glow. Knowing Molly was inside both excited her and terrified her—a combination of feelings she was almost used to at this point.
Her breath was visible in the chilly evening air, mingling with the falling snow, leaving no doubt that she was in the Northeast. A part of her smiled inside, feeling at home in this weather she always claimed to despise, knowing it was in her blood regardless of how much she loved the sun.
Her leather boots protected the bottoms of her pants from the wet snow and for that, she was grateful. She hadn't taken the time to change out of her stupidly expensive pantsuit, wanting to simply get in the car and escape, but now she wished she'd been dressed a bit more casually, especially when the door was opened by Amy, who stood there in her sweats looking adorable and the slightest bit relieved to see she had finally arrived.
Kristin found herself immediately enveloped in a huge hug, which she tried to return despite her full hands.
"You made it." Amy's tone was unsuccessful in hiding the fact that she was actually surprised.
Kristin felt immediate guilt set upon her shoulders like a wet, cold blanket. "I did. It's good to see you."
They moved indoors and Jo took Kristin's bags and coat. The interior was just as warm and cozy as the outside glow had suggested and Kristin felt herself relax ever so slightly. She took in the faces of the four other women—well, the faces of three and the back of Molly's head as she concentrated on the video game she was playing on the television.
"Come in. Let me introduce you." Amy hooked her arm in Kristin's and escorted her farther into the cabin. Gesturing to the club chair, she introduced the dimpled blonde who was reading a book, a small dog curled in the crook of her knees. "Kristin, this is Laura Baker."
Laura smiled. "I'd get up, but..." She pointed at the dog, then reached out and shook Kristin's hand warmly. "Nice to meet you, Kristin."
"Same here." Kristin followed Amy to the living area where two women sat, one on the couch and one on the floor, both alternating between watching what Molly was doing and looking at the newcomer.
"This is Sophie Wilson. She created our logos."
"Guilty as charged," the woman on the couch said with a grin.
"That was really nice work," Kristin complimented her as they shook hands. "I loved both designs."
"Thanks." Sophie looked pleasantly satisfied.
"And this is Jo's niece, Darby," Amy went on.
Darby stood and Kristin didn't miss the quick once-over as Darby's blue eyes slid along her body. "Heard a lot about you."
Her handshake was firm and Kristin noticed a subtle clicking as she talked. She caught a quick flash of metal from Darby's mouth. Tongue ring. She refrained from making a distasteful expression. "All good, I hope."
Darby smiled, but didn't answer. The silver hoop in her eyebrow reflected the firelight as she sat back down next to Molly, not leaving a whole lot of distance between the two.
"Damn!" Molly heaved a sigh as the words "Game Over" flashed on the screen.
"Hey, you did great," Darby said, squeezing her shoulder. "Look. You're the number two high score."
"I'm going to beat you." Molly's voice was light, teasing. "Sooner or later, I'm going to beat you. You know it."
Playfully, Darby snatched the controls out of Molly's hand. "Promises, promises."
Kristin stood in minor discomfort as she waited for Molly to acknowledge her arrival, knowing this was her punishment for being so late and she had to take it like a big girl. Finally, Molly stood and turned to look at her, her face stern, but a faint flush in her cheeks. Kristin wasn't sure if she was happy to see her or still excited by the game. She didn't allow herself to dwell on the answer, just enjoyed the little jolt that she still got every time Molly focused those intense green eyes on her. After seven years together, she was still amazed by how attracted she was to her wife. Molly was beautiful, even when she was ticked off...especially when she was ticked off. Like now.
"Hi, baby." Kristin stepped forward and put her arms around Molly, ignoring the fact that the hug returned to her was halfhearted. "I missed you," she added softly, both hope and truth coloring her voice.
"I missed you, too," Molly said, giving in slightly, her arms tightening just a touch.
"How about some dinner and a glass of wine?" Amy offered. "We saved you some chicken."
"Oh, my God, that would be wonderful. I'm starving." Kristin slid her hand down Molly's arm and linked their fingers together, suddenly relieved to be with her. Molly was looking over her shoulder at the game Darby was playing.
"How was your drive?" Jo asked, returning from upstairs where she'd deposited Kristin's bags.
"Uneventful. It snowed pretty steadily, but nothing too scary."
Jo peered out the window. "That Lexus good in the snow?"
"It's not bad. I've been pleasantly surprised." At the sound of dishes in the kitchen, Kristin squeezed Molly's hand to get her attention. "I'm going to go up and change out of this monkey suit, okay?"
'"Kay," Molly answered distractedly, her eyes still focused on the television screen. "On the left, Darby! The left! Good."
Kristin headed upstairs, peeking in both rooms looking for her bags. Finding them on the queen-sized bed, she headed over to it, taking in the soft comforts of the room itself, feeling a little like she was at a bed and breakfast in the woods. The idea wasn't unpleasant and she gazed out the window at the snow sparkling in the moonlight. Breathing deeply, she tried to exhale all the stress of the past couple days, wanting to see it dissipate in the air like steam.
That was when her Blackberry buzzed from inside her briefcase.
"God damn it," she muttered, rifling through the leather case and pulling out the contraption. Reeves's number showed on the screen. "Son of a bitch," she said to the room, took another deep breath, and clicked on.
"Hey, Jack. What's up?" Quick and to the point, hoping he'd notice her clipped tone and take the hint.
"Just wanted to make sure you got Howard's e-mail. I told him you'd get right back to him." His booming bass voice vibrated in the pit of her stomach. She used to find him powerful and intriguing. Lately, he just annoyed her.
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